


Central Nervous System

by chancellorxofxtrash (PhoebeMurdivine)



Category: Durarara!!, 越佐大橋シリーズ | Etsusa Bridge Series (Manga)
Genre: Gen, does it count as a crossover when they are in the same universe, naritaverse, spoilers up to Garguguru pt 2 from Etsusa Bridge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 10:14:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7044235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoebeMurdivine/pseuds/chancellorxofxtrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aoba never thought he could become an urban legend without ever setting foot into the area where he'd become known at. Then again, the world was full of surprises.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Central Nervous System

**Author's Note:**

> There are parts of this fic that are copied from Garuguru part 2, as translated by untuned-strings.

When he got the call from Yatsufusa, at first he thought he misheard things.

„Hey Aoba, ever heard of Etsusa Bridge?”

Of course Aoba had heard of it. It was everywhere on the news – at first because of the monumental task and technological innovations, and then about a year ago, because it was abandoned, despite being almost completed. Aoba didn’t pay too much attention to it. Things like this happened all the time lately, with Japan’s fragile current economy and government, a lot of things became abandoned. Etsusa Bridge was just the biggest one.

„Sure. What of it?”

And then he just listened to Yatsufusa’s explanation of his ideas, of effectively owning the island – a system of informants and information, a way to keep tabs on this small society that started to form on the nameless island.

„I’ll go around the island… and create a flow. And this is your job. You figure out the flow from an outside perspective and control its direction. You’re the one at the helm, basically. Heehahaha!”

„Why would you go through all that trouble to just put me in charge of this flow?”

 „Well, you were always good at controlling things from a distance. You don’t even need to set foot on the island... I doubt you’d survive long, hehehehahaaaaa! I mean don’t get me wrong, but this island... is much more difficult to survive! Compared to this, the old colour gang clashes are basically kindergarten snowball-fights! I think your big brother would get killed in a day or two out here. Hahahahhahahaaaaa!”

Aoba let out a sigh, and considered hanging up before Yatsufusa continued.

„Seriously, something new is forming here. And you could have the chance of ruling it. Why would say no to that?”

When Yatsufusa put it like that... he really couldn’t.

-

He used Yatsufusa to contact people on the island, picking up those Yatsufusa knew more, and knew that they would not talk to anyone. That was good, it was a starting point, building up the network.

He was working on it, when his doorbell rang. He sighed, standing up, walking to the door, looking out – and saw two faces through the peephole.

„...what are you two doing here?”

„Aocchi, don’t be like that. Let us in!”

They were in their twenties already, but the twins did not stop referring to him by the nickname he got when they were children – and Aoba just reluctantly opened the door, letting the girls come in.

They did not change much – Mairu was wearing almost elegant clothes, very proper, her hair not braided anymore, more like in an elegant ponytail, her expressive face twisting into a frown, when she looked around Aoba’s apartement.

„Aocchi, your apartement is a mess... and you look like a mess too.”

Kururi – her hair still short, her clothes still tomboyish, stepped close to Aoba, gently touching his arm.

„...worried.”

...right. The girls were worried. He basically disappeared from society when he started to dwelve into more and more into the island, and it’s inhabitants. He lived on takeout, and it was obvious from the state of his apartement. No one really came looking for him... apart from the girls, it seemed.

„Sorry, girls. I was busy.”

Mairu looked at all the equipment – the screens, the words, the communicators, and looked at Aoba questioningly.

„What are you doing again, Aocchi? Something sinister, no doubt! Are you spying on people?”

„No! ...I mean yes. In a way. Listen...”

He found himself explaining the situation to the twins, who looked at the screens, back at him, and just listened.

Kururi stepped forward, and nodded a little.

„...help.”

Aoba blinked a few times, and Mairu just grinned.

„Kuru-nee is right! You have eyes and ears on the island, but that is not enough, is it? Information has to come from the outside too. Kuru-nee and I could help you!”

„Wait...”

„Do not worry, Aocchi! We will be very careful, and never tell Iza-nii. Iza-nii would mess up that island wouldn’t he? Besides, it’s not like he ever talks to us anymore.”

Aoba tried to protest more, but in the end, the girls both left with a communicator each.

-

Aoba needed a way to reach the island’s inhabitants who were not part of his system – who were not Spring-heeled Joplin. The name was Yatsufusa’s idea, and while originally he found it ridiculous, the name was starting to grow on him.

He was actually outside – Mairu was the one watching the flow, while Kururi dragged Aoba out to get some fresh air. That was what the girls did, apart from collecting information, or sometimes leaking them when Aoba asked – they made sure Aoba would not completely disappear from society, and would actually step outside of his room, from the computer, from the words and the communicators.

But despite being outside, his thoughts were still stuck inside, and he just tried to think about a solution, when a stray cat caught his eye.

He grinned, and pulled out the communicator, he still had in his hand, and while Kururi was watching him curiously, he started to speak.

„This is Spring-heeled Joplin calling Spring-heeled Joplin. How do you all feel about cats?”

-

When Yatsufusa died, Aoba was alone in his room, leaning back.

Technically, he could have backed out. Shut down the system, making Spring-heeled Joplin, the budding urban legend of the island disappear into the void, like nothing happened.

He could have left the island.

He just sat there, communicator in hand, watching all the data – the words, the footage of security cameras. Listened to the voices from the communicators.

[Spring-heeled Joplin calling Spring-heeled Joplin.]

He knew that voice – the voice belonged to a young woman leaving in the Northern District, who went there following her husband after he got exposed for stealing from his company. Now the husband was even more useless, but the woman started to have a fondness for the island, and especially some of the kids abandoned there.

She could not take care of all the Rats, but she could adopt some of them.

The island was full of stories like this.

Aoba sighed and raised his communicator.

„This is Spring-heeled Joplin. I’m listening, Spring-heeled Joplin.”

Yatsufusa’s death could not stop the flow.

-

„Look at that, Spring-heeled Joplin, we have our fellow urban legend now.”

Aoba could not stop grinning, as he was collecting all the information about the Killer Ghoul.

With his information network beneath his fingertips, it didn’t take too long to figure out who the Killer Ghoul really was before going to the island.

It would be so easy to let the information find the right people. There would be people who’d like to have the upper hand on the Ghoul... or on Takehito Isegawa. Either of them. It would be easy, so easy.

All he had to do was to pull on a string, and the Ghoul might fall down to the web that Spring-heeled Joplin was weaving through the island, and on the mainland. Either that, or the Ghoul could rip it apart, destroying all his work.

One wrong decision, and all of it could fall apart.

_Is this how Mikado-senpai and Izaya felt back then?_

Aoba closed his eyes and smiled.

And did not pull on the string.

-

[Spring-heeled Joplin calling Spring-heeled Joplin. I have a debate I need to settle between me and Spring-heeled Joplin. Lihuang versus Zhang, who would win?]

Aoba tilted his head – the question came from Mairu’s communicator. As usual, Mairu was chatting way more out loud – but when it came to texting information through the network, Kururi was more active. And both of them were very interested in the island’s inhabitants.

[What kind of a question is that.] [It is actually a good question.] [Obviously Lihuang, have you seen the sword?] [What if he’s not allowed to use a sword?] [The original question did not specify that.] [Is this really what we are using this whole thing for?] [Why not? We can have fun times. To answer your question, Spring-heeled Joplin, if it’s hand-to-hand, Zhang would own Lihuang, no question.] [Says you. Have you seen Lihuang? I’m pretty sure he could kick Zhang’s ass, sword or no sword.] [Sounds like something someone from the Western District would say. Zhang is not called the Greatest without reason.] [Sounds like something someone from the Eastern District would say.]

Aoba smiled, listening to the discussion, before raising his own communicator.

„This is Spring-heeled Joplin. I propose a more interesting question. Amagiri versus Kuzuhara. What would happen?”

The discussion flared up again, and Aoba did not stop smiling.

-

„We observe, give hints, and give guidance. That’s all right. But we can’t become the driving force. Not even if the island sinks. So… unfortunately, Spring-heeled Joplin, that suggestion is denied.”

It was not easy to come to this decision. But from the beginning he kept Spring-heeled Joplin out from the heat, not getting too involved. Not even when the mad bomber threatened sinking the island.

And then the screens and the communicators flared up, more and more people joining in, raising their voices, moving their fingers.

[You may be our proverbial brain and spinal cord, my friend, but I ask that you also pay mind to the reflexive movements of the rest of your body.]

Mairu’s voice, between all the others.

Aoba laughed, even when some other voices threatened to kill him.

„Heh heh heh… Heh heh heh! All right. All right, Spring-heeled Joplin. Then let us put our heads together… let us come to a consensus as Spring-heeled Joplin.”

This was not like the Dollars, a group of people barely connected by a single name, but no rules. This was nothing like Izaya Orihara’s information network.

Aoba Kuronuma felt like he was really the brain of some organism – he could make the final decisions, maybe. But Mairu was right – all of the others were right.

This was something new, something completely different, and Aoba could not stop smiling as he felt his heart racing, as he listened to the chatter.

Like an organism paying attention to the responses of the body.

„Now… what do you suppose we should do, my friends?”

The discussion flared up again, and he listened, he read the responses, biting his lower lip in anticipation. He had to do something, that seemed inevitable now. If he stayed put, the whole network could fall apart, and he could not let that happen.

[I’m not on the island, either, but I want to protect it.]

He recognized that voice as well, despite the fact that until now she didn’t talk out loud through the system. Kururi.

A smile formed on Aoba’s lips as he came to a decision. The fact that Yua also jumped in was just the icing on the proverbial cake.

The brain of Spring-heeled Joplin had already made decision, as he pulled on one of the strings they set up. Just moving one more piece into the chaos.

Just one more factor, to tip the balance into the favour of the island.

Spring-heeled Joplin did what they could. After that, it was in the hand of the key players to settle this conflict.

-

A few days after Ginga Kanashima died, Aoba was walking through the streets of Ikebukuro, having finished his grocery shopping, having left the system in the twins’ care for a few hours (he was pretty sure they mentioned wanting to lead Charlotte Liverpool to find his brother – and Aoba did not mind, so he let them do what they wanted), when he saw Mikado Ryugamine on the other side of the street.

Aoba stopped, and he still felt a phantom itch on his left hand – the scar was not easy to see, not anymore, unless you knew what to look for, but sensations like that... one does not forget easily. He just stopped, and watched Mikado for a few seconds – Mikado still dressed very elegantly, fixing his glasses, and despite him being in his early thirties, he had grey streaks in his hair, Aoba could see it even from there.

Part of him wanted to cross the street, to chat him up, to tell him that he had become an urban legend, how many things are under his fingertips. He wanted to talk about standing there, watching the information flow – he wanted to talk about all the incredible people on the island: the Rogue of the East, the Witch of the West, the Sleeping Beauty, the detective siblings, the rainbow haired dog and his rivalry with the guard dog of the witch. He wanted to talk about Kuzuhara and Kelly, and the Killer Ghoul and the girl with the katana. He wanted to talk about the eccentric Guard Team and the Rats.

As if he could sense the eyes on him, Mikado looked up, and their eyes met. Aoba just smiled and waved a little, and Mikado returned the wave with a polite smile.

Then Aoba just turned away, and started to walk back home.

There was an island, miles away, that needed the attention of it’s urban legend.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, and many thanks for the rest of the fandom for contributing to this theory.


End file.
